


Spotlight On Me (Kiss Me Through The Glass)

by jasminetea



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha!Charles, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Exhibitionism, Fingerfucking, M/M, Masturbation, Omega!Erik, Sex Club, Sex Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-13
Updated: 2012-10-13
Packaged: 2017-11-16 05:02:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/535803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasminetea/pseuds/jasminetea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is an omega performer at Hellfire who thinks it's all just biology.  Charles is an alpha who'd rather be reading a biology monograph.  Neither's prepared for the attraction they feel for one another.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spotlight On Me (Kiss Me Through The Glass)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for [this](http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/8074.html?thread=17727882) prompt on the kink meme, which asked for alpha!Charles seeing omega!Erik perform on stage.
> 
> Written to a mix of Britney Spears and depressing love songs. Part of the title is taken from Spears' "Circus," but if you can identify the fandom referenced in the title, I will do my best to fill a prompt of your choice.

It's all just biology.  
  
That's the crux of Erik's performances in Hellfire.  
  
He's an omega, and his body reacts to alpha pheromones in the same way alphas react to omega ones. It's a chemical reaction, just another formula like NaCl + AgNo3 -> NaNO3 + AgCl.  It's much easier to school his face into the careful disdain he's known for than everyone thinks.  
  
No one gives the mind the eroticism it deserves. It's easy as breathing to hold himself back when he knows the omega's predicament.  What's a case of tight trousers to an alpha when an omega actually has to leave in humiliation, change his pants because the seat is soaked through, and the smell will linger long after you've left?  And _still_ alphas are arrogant like they're G-d's gift to omegas everywhere, thinking a quick fuck is the equivalent of a lifelong commitment until the next needy omega comes around.  
  
Just because his body wants a hard cock up its ass doesn't mean Erik has to be happy with it.  But that doesn't mean he can't make use of it either.  This is a job; it pays well and every time he clocks in, he receives further confirmation on how inferior alphas are with their roaming eyes and blaring hormones.

He's never understood how his co-workers could speak of just letting the pheromones cloud their minds.  
  
"It's pretty explosive," Alex had said.  
  
"It's just another alpha wanting to get in you," Erik replied.  
  
Alex smirked. "No, it's not. Because for once you want it equally and on each other's terms. Besides sometimes the hormones just go straight to your..."  
  
Then another performer threw a shoe at him yelling about how she didn't need to hear that.  
  
But tonight something is different. The bullet-proof glass that divides performers and audience is pheromone permeable, and while the usual scent of randy alphas makes him wet enough to give a show, there's something else.  
  
Something that goes straight to his head like good liquor, short-circuiting his mind, makes his ass clench and slick up as it's never done before. That scent reminds him of everything good, and promises the best sex of his life that will leave him wrung out with pleasure with an alpha who'll demand just one more orgasm from him before their night together is through.  
  
He thinks there may be some truth to sexual chemistry after all.  
  
*

Charles would rather be reading Princeton University's latest Population Biology monograph, but Tony Stark is nothing if not charismatically persuasive, so the two walk into Hellfire with Tony's hand on the small of his back.  
  
"You'll love it," Tony whispers conspiratorially into Charles' ear. "This place is members-only. The omegas aren't on inhibitors."  
  
Charles pulls back in shock. " _What_?"  
  
Tony slaps Charles on the shoulder. "Don't worry, it's still all strictly legal. Mostly. Really, would I be caught in that kind of unsavory place? Me, really?"  
  
Charles thinks, _Yes, you would_ , but wisely says nothing.  
  
A pretty beta waitress in a surprisingly conservative dress shows them to a private booth near the back.  
  
"Do you have anything closer?" Tony asks with that charming smile of his. "It's my friend's first time here, and I want him to enjoy himself if you know what I mean."  
  
"Oh," the pretty blonde says, tucking her hair behind her ear. (Charles is thinking of genes and recessive traits and pondering if blondes will ever become extinct) She glances at Charles from the corner of her pretty powder blue eyes. "For a friend of Mr. Stark's..."  
  
Walking with more swing to her hips, she shows them to the long, thin table that's in front of the sealed off catwalk.  
  
"Wonderful," Tony says. "This'll do nicely." He slips a bill under the strap of her tank, and she giggles, saying he shouldn't.  
  
Charles takes his seat and idly tears at the paper napkin, waiting for Tony to finish his flirting.  
  
Tony slides into his seat, and says, "So, lovely Lidia tells me that you're in for a treat tonight."  
  
"Oh?" Charles replies, trying for more enthusiasm then he feels.  
  
Tony sees right through him, rolling his eyes. "Mr. Untouchable himself is on in 5."  
  
Charles blinks at him owlishly; Tony assures him he'll understand in just a few moments.  
  
*

The scent is what hits him first. Sweet like perfume, salty on the back of his tongue, Charles knows he can't really taste pheromones, but the reaction is strong. There must be a door behind the T-shaped catwalk he can't see, because that scent has to be coming from somewhere.  
  
Charles takes a quick survey of the people around him - almost entirely alphas judging by the rising amount of pheromones - and can tell the regulars by the concentrated look of desire across their faces. Even Tony looks supremely satisfied.  
  
"You won't be disappointed," he smirks.  
  
Charles turns his attention back to the stage, and out comes a naked omega.  
  
His cock half-hard - a natural reaction to all the hormones out here, really - he looks down at the whole audience with a look of genuine disinterest. Charles thinks he can hear his footfalls against the loud catcalls.  
  
The omega doesn't traverse the sides of the stage, and Charles hears the disappointed yells from the audience, instead making a straight, determined line towards the front where he and Tony are.  
  
Now that he's closer, Charles can see his lips are slightly parted, his cheeks are flushed beneath their freckles and his eyes are blown entirely wide.  
  
"That's interesting," Tony murmurs from his side.  
  
Charles can't spare him a glance, because he's having a hard time ignoring his growing erection. The scent's stronger now, and his breathing's growing heavier now, trying to take in as much of it as he can.  
  
He can tell some of the omega's reactions are choreographed; the slight tilt to his hips, showing off how trim his waist is, the slow turn on the balls of his feet to show his ass to the audience. But the way he presses his fingers in, rough, messily, uncoordinated, without isn't. The way he arches against his fingers, and his hips push up for friction that's not there isn't.

Charles can't move his eyes. He wants to force those long lean fingers to grasp his forearms as Charles slowly fingers him until he pleads Charles to give him just another finger, to press in just a bit further until his fingers bump against his prostate.  
  
And oh, the omega's found his, because Charles can see the cream against his fingers building, the liquid starting to drip down the insides of his thighs. Charles can imagine tracing the drop with his tongue and -  
  
He needs to pull back, think about the periodic table (hydrogen, nitrogen, the halogens and heavy metals) but all his blood is flowing down, leaving none for his head.  
  
The performer backs straight into the glass with a smack, right in front of Charles, and spreads his ass, giving Charles a fine view of how slick that hole is, and how it clenches in the absence of his fingers for something like his cock. His head hits the glass with a thunk, his hair damp with perspiration, and Charles can tell by the motion of his arm that he's slowly stroking his length.  
  
Charles needs to remember this is a performance, that there is currency being exchanged here, that nothing is genuine, but he wants to grab that jaw and turn him around so he can see his face as he neglects his ass -  
  
Slowly turning his head, his dark eyes meet Charles'. Charles is embarrassed to be caught, and apparently his dick can spare enough blood for him to blush. The omega slowly turns his whole body against the glass. His cock is fully erect and he pushes up against the glass, precum smearing.  
  
Charles takes a sip of his drink and fingers his collar. The performer smirks, his eyes still cloudy, and cleverly slips his fingers back to his hole. He's giving quite the show to the audience in the wings judging by the roar. He makes small noises now, pulling back from the glass to pull his nipples. He groans, the muscles in his thighs clenching.  
  
He's close to coming now, his breaths coming even quicker, the taste of him even thicker in Charles' mouth. He looks straight at Charles and fingers himself even harder, doesn't stop looking as his free hand presses against the glass.  
  
Charles can't help it, he leans across the narrow width of the table and presses his hand back. "Come," Charles says to him.  
  
And he does, his eyes fluttering, his cum painting his front, and his slick dripped down to his knees now. The club's a din, but Charles only has eyes for this omega, his cock still spurting weakly as he sinks to his knees, his digits wet with fluid. The omega lets his eyes stay closed and presses his lips to the barrier between the two of them, a quiet offering.

There's only one thing Charles can do.

Placing his hands where the omega's are, Charles kneels up on the table, leans up, and kisses him through the glass.


End file.
